Soul of the Sea
by Ame the Pirate Queen
Summary: When Commodore James Norrington finds a young woman lost at sea, he has no idea that bringing her on board his ship sets off a chain of events that will result in an epic battle between the forces of good and evil. Norrington/OFC
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I own nothing but Anemone.

AN: Okay, so I've been absent from the fanfic world for a long time but this plot bunny has been bouncing around in my head in one form or another for months. I know this first chapter is a little boring, but I promise it's going to get interesting pretty quickly. Please review and the next chapter will be out super fast.

Soul of the Sea

Chapter One

The deck creaked under his booted feet and the time worn handles of the wheel felt comfortingly familiar beneath his callused hands. James Norrington's sharp green eyes raked across the horizon of the far reaching ocean, constantly searching, hunting, for the elusive pirates he sought. He had been sent out in hopes of rounding up another batch for the hangman's noose, but yet had any luck.

Hurricane season was almost upon them and each day he and his crew spent out upon the tempestuous ocean felt like tempting fate. He unconsciously pressed his lips together in a slight grimace as he surveyed his men working on the deck below him, his mind drifting towards the distant Port Royal and he could not suppress the rush of anger laced pain that stabbed his chest.

His frown grew deeper and lines that had not been present months before cut into the flesh around his eyes and mouth. As he always did, he shoved the unwanted emotions and memories they brought into the dark, rarely visited portion of his psyche and forced himself instead to focus on the smear of black that suddenly appeared on the horizon.

Just as his gaze found the ominous curl, the piercing voice of the lookout rang down from the crow's nest, alerting the commodore to the smoking wreckage rapidly drawing nearer to the _Courageous_ and her crew. Immediately James called to his first mate, passing the helm to his capable hands and joining the rest of the crew on the main deck. As the details of the wreck grew visible to the naked eye it became clear that the new destroyed vessel was the victim of a particularly violent pirate attack.

"Look for survivors, men." He ordered, all the men hearing what went unsaid, that the chance of anyone surviving was extremely slim.

As the _Courageous_ slid silently through the burning wreckage, something caught James's eye that somehow the lookout missed. His eyes widened suddenly as he noticed a body clinging to what appeared to be a considerably buoyant trunk of some sort.

"Man overboard!" He bellowed, sending the men into a flurry of motion. "Lower a lifeboat!" He hollered.

As soon as the small boat touched the water, he followed two of his men down into the slightly rickety craft. They rowed to the still body and when they drew near, James stiffened in surprise at discovering what he thought to be a sailor turned out to be the frail figure of a woman. He leaned over the side of the boat and carefully pulled her out of the water and into the relative safety of the rowboat. His men didn't say anything as they rowed back to the _Courageous_ and James paid them little mind, focusing on the limp body in his arms.

The woman's chest barely moved, the slight movement indicating that despite her appearance she still lived. Her inky dark hair clung to her face in damp chunks but couldn't hide her delicate bone structure and the lacy fan of black lashes that rested just above her high cheekbones. The gown she wore was simply made and ruined by exposure to the salt water, but concealed much of her figure.

She trembled slightly in his grasp and he carefully shifted her to grasp her small hands within his much larger ones. Her eyelids fluttered as if she was trying to rouse herself from her unconsciousness and he was too fixated upon her fragile features to notice the ever so slightly green hue fade away from her curling hair. As the rowboat bumped into the side of the _Courageous_, her eyes suddenly snapped open and James's breath caught in his throat as her blue-green eyes, the exact shade of the ocean on a calm day, seared through his soul.

Her full mouth pulled down into a frown as her gaze drifted across his strong features and then to the other men in the boat. Confusion darkened her eyes and she parted her lips to speak, but only a hoarse croak came from her before her eyes rolled back into her head. James and his men carefully conveyed her up onto the deck, making sure not to jostle her in case her clothing concealed some kind of serious injury. The crew stilled their work when James accepted her limp body from the man who carried her up onto the ship, shifting her weight until she was curled against his chest.

His first mate called down to him from the wheel house. "Sir, is…she alive?"

He nodded. "Barely. Send the doctor to my cabin, he needs to examine her for injuries."

James didn't wait to see if his first mate obeyed him and strode across the deck, kicking open the door to the lower decks. Within moments he was within his cabin and stopped short when he realized the girl in his arms was dripping wet. Anywhere he set her would be ruined by the saltwater in her clothes and long hair. Casting aside that thought, her carefully set her down on the bed that had been his and took a step back, simply looking at her.

There was something about her that struck him as unnatural. He could not place his finger on it, even as his eyes carefully calculated the ghostly white hue of her skin and the unfamiliar planes of her face. His perusal of her features was interrupted by a knock at the door and he bid the doctor entrance. As the doctor began his examination and carefully began removing the woman's salt soaked garments and replaced them with a clean white shirt belonging to the commodore, James respectfully turned his back.

First and foremost, Commodore James Norrington was a gentleman and he would not sully the honor of any woman by gazing upon her bare form unless they were joined in holy matrimony. He listened to the rustling of cloth and the metallic clink of medical instruments for several long minutes before the doctor cleared his throat. James turned back around and met the other man's grey gaze.

"Sir, I can find no discernable injuries upon her person except for a number of unserious bruises and scrapes that can be assumed she acquired while the vessel was being destroyed. She is suffering from a mild case of dehydration and by my judgment she spent no longer than twelve hours drifting alone."

"Thank you, Doctor." James said, his brow furrowing as he looked at the still unconscious woman. "Do you know when she will regain consciousness?"

"No sir, she has no head wounds that might keep her under so when she is ready, she will come awake."

"Very well, I must return to my post. Remain here until she comes to and when she does, send someone for me. I have several questions for our mystery guest."

"Yes sir."

James nodded again and left the cabin, his attention no longer focused on the pirates he was supposed to be hunting but the frail woman with haunting eyes like the sea.

* * *

Perhaps an hour passed before a young cabin boy ran from below deck with a message that the woman had finally awoken. James passed the helm back to his first mate and strode quickly back to his cabin, eager to discover the identity of the woman they rescued. When he entered the room, he noticed the doctor sitting on a rickety chair beside the bed, handing a tin cup full of what James assumed to be water to the small woman. The doctor rose from the chair and smiled in a comforting, almost paternal way and patted her shoulder.

"Here's the Commodore, just like I told you, Miss."

She nodded her head and took a careful sip from the cup, keeping her eyes carefully averted from James. The doctor bowed slightly to James before exiting the room, leaving the door partially ajar to preserve the young woman's modesty. He slowly lowered himself into the chair and waited for her to look at him, his brow creasing in a frown as she persisted in staring at the cotton sheet across her lap. This behavior continued for several minutes, long after she had drained the cup, and so he carefully plucked it from her hands and set it on the floor by his chair.

"My name is James Norrington and I am a commodore in the Royal British Navy. Would you mind telling me where you are from, Miss…" He trailed off, encouraging her to answer to answer the unspoken question.

She didn't respond and kept her eyes focused on her hands, fingers knotted tightly in her lap. The only sign that she had heard him speak was the slight tilt of her head in his direction. He let out a faint sigh.

"Miss, I know you recently lived through a very traumatizing event but I cannot help you if you do not speak to me."

She shifted slightly, the mostly dry and now stiff strands of her hair slipping to hide what little of her face he could see. He leaned forward and slipped a finger beneath her chin, forcing her to turn her head to him. The curls fell away from her face and suddenly his green eyes met her shifting, sea coloured ones and he once again felt her gaze sear through him to the bottom of his soul.

For a moment they stared at each other before he jerked his hand away from her like the touch of her hurt him. She tilted her head to the side as if inspecting him, her blue-green eyes barely human. A moment passed and the almost feral look in her eyes bled away to be replaced with a soft confusion more at home on her delicate features.

"I-I'm sorry." She murmured her voice sweet and coloured with a lilting accent James couldn't place. "I have not…" She paused and pouted faintly as she struggled to find words. "I am called Anemone. Thank you for saving me, Commodore James Norrington." The way she said his title was strange, almost as if she tasted each syllable of his name.

"You are very welcome. What is your surname, Miss Anemone?" He didn't remark how uncommon her name was, assuming she was aware of its rarity.

Confusion flickered in her eyes briefly before she smiled tentatively, her bow shaped lips curling at the corners. "Storm." She said simply.

"Miss Storm, did pirates attack your ship?" James didn't see the point in dancing around the subject that needed broaching, figuring it would be better to directly address the painful topic.

"Yes. They attacked in the middle of the night. There was nothing the crew could do and the ship went down so fast." Her voice caught on the last word and tears sparkled in her eyes. "I do not know if any others survived. I don't know how I managed to." The more she spoke, the hesitancy of her earlier words disappeared and her speech became more fluid, almost as if she was growing more comfortable with an unfamiliar language.

"You are a very lucky woman to have lived. What of your family? Where do they reside?"

The tears in her eyes grew heavy enough to break past her lashes, slipping down her milky pale cheeks. "They are lost to the sea." She wiped her face with trembling fingers and then cast her beseeching gaze to his face. "What will I do now? I have no family to take me in. Nowhere to go, no one to claim me, alone." As she whispered the last word her lower lip began to tremble, a certain precursor to a sobbing fit; for a moment something glimmered in her eyes, perhaps a hint of derision at how easily man can be manipulated.

James did not seem to notice that momentary spark and a kind expression covered his face. He would help her as best he could within the limits of propriety. It would not be seen as proper if an unmarried man invited a young woman into his home if she was not his blood relation, wife, or ward and Miss Anemone was none of those things. Yet, perhaps a good family in Port Royal would consider taking her in until she could get back on her feet. He nodded to himself, decided that this was the best course of action for him to take. He gently patted one of her white knuckled hands and smiled kindly.

"Do not fret, Miss Storm, I will not abandon you. We will make for Port Royal and there we will find a family of good blood to take you in. Now, I must return to my duty, but I will send someone with food and more water within the hour. I suggest you rest as much as you can for when we make port, there will be much to do. Good evening, miss. I will check in on you in a few hours."

"Thank you so much for your kindness, Commodore. Fate must have brought you to me in my hour of direst need. Thank you." She offered him a most radiant smile that lit up her beautiful face, warmth filling her ocean eyes.

"You are most welcome." He said as he exited the cabin, firmly closing the door behind him.

Once the door closed, she waited several long minutes as if making sure he was truly gone before throwing the sheet off her legs. She let out a soft squeal of delight when she saw the two long, graceful appendages attached to her body and carefully ran her hands over the smooth skin. She ran her fingers around lump of her knees and pulled her legs up to her chest in order to touch each individual toe. She explored her limbs as if she had never seen them before, a soft sound of glee burbling up from her mouth.

"Legs." She muttered, rolling the word around in her mouth like she had never said it before. "Toes and feet."

She swung said legs over the side of the bed and slowly pushed herself up. As she put all her weight on her petite feet, she wobbled uncertainly and collapsed back down onto the mattress. Not to be discouraged by a setback, she rose once more and tested her unstable legs. She began to walk slowly, unstably around the cabin, looking for all intents and purposes like a toddler taking her first steps.

She stopped before a small mirror in the corner of room and gasped when she caught sight of her reflection. She traced her high cheekbones and opened her mouth, running the tips of her fingers along her straight, white teeth. When she saw her hair, her breath whooshed out of her. She grabbed a hank and brought it round her shoulder to look at it with her own eyes, a hint of sadness coming into her orbs.

"No longer myself, changed to resemble something I am not, here to blend in and protect. Always protect and hide, never show the truth." She mumbled to herself, recounting some long since hear message.

She flicked the salt stiffened lock back over her shoulder as a wave of exhaustion slammed into her, making her wobble dangerously. She lurched back over to the bed and curled up on it, tugging the oversized lawn shirt back down over her pale thighs. Suddenly she was so unbearably tired, unable to keep her eyes open any longer. No wonder, she thought to herself, it wasn't particularly common to shed fins and tale for legs.

She smiled absently as she dragged the sheet back up around her and quickly drifted off, mind spinning the tale she would tell when they arrived in Port Royal. Nobody could ever know the truth about her, she had made a promise to her people to protect their most sacred artifact and she would not betray them. Something deep within her hummed quietly, thrumming with power men would kill to possess.

* * *

AN: So what'd y'all think? I figure y'all can figure out what Nemmy is and that this'll be an eventual James/Nemmy fic. Please review cause it's inspiration for my muse and the happier she is, the faster the fic is updated.

Blessed Be

Ame


	2. Chapter Two

Disclaimer: Ya, y'all all know I only own Anemone. POTC is not mine and I lay no claim on it, I'm merely borrowing it for the benefit of the rabid plot bunnies and my demanding muse.

Author Note: Well, it doesn't appear as if this plot bunny is going to die, for this chapter really where the plot is introduced. Now I know this chapter might be a little depressing towards the end, but I promise that this won't be a dark story. Anemone has a rough time ahead of her but things won't always be bad. Thank you to those who reviewed and to those who read but didn't let me know what ya thought, please do! I would really like to know how this story is faring with y'all. Anywho, onto the chapter!

* * *

Chapter Two

Anemone barely stirred when a knock came from the door, simply curling up into a smaller ball and drawing the sheet tighter about her. She had never experienced anything as luxurious as this thing called a bed and the soft warmth surrounding her was far more appealing than whatever the person on the outside of the door wanted.

She began to drift back into cottony cocoon of her dreams when the sound of metal connected with wood caused her to lift her head from the nest of blankets. The doctor stood by the table in the central area of the cabin, a tin tray with several varieties of food steaming temptingly in her direction. Her nose caught the scent and she shifted, the sheets falling around her as she moved to sit up. The doctor watched her, that same, warmly paternal expression on his creased features.

"Hungry, are ye?"

She nodded.

"If ye're strong enough, come sit over here but if ye'd prefer, I'm sure the Commodore wouldn't object to ye eating where ye are."

It took her sleep befuddled mind a moment to remember who this commodore was. "I believe I am strong enough." She murmured demurely, recalling the behavioral teachings she received before accepting her mission.

She unconsciously pressed a hand against her chest and felt the comforting thrumming between her breasts, her shoulders slumping slightly. How would she ever manage on her own? She had told the truth to James, Commodore Norrington as her lessons reminded her. She truly had no family left. All of them had died, albeit not in the pirate attack.

She felt a brief flicker of guilt for the innocent people who had passed on when she unleashed the power inside of her, but it was partially assuaged by the knowledge that many more would have died if she had not taken up her quest. Realizing then that the doctor was staring, she forced a delicate blush to spread across her pale cheeks.

"I am afraid, sir, that I am not properly dressed to be seen by a man who is not my blood relation." She cast her eyes down into her lap, looking at the doctor from beneath her long lashes.

He immediately understood, assuming like James that she was from a privileged family, and smiled again. "Do not fret, Miss Storm, I will remove myself presently. I hope ye enjoy yer meal and I suggest ye get as much rest as ye can." He bowed slightly to her, and then did as he said.

Anemone rose from the bed once the door closed and looked down at herself, smoothing her palms over the lawn material of the shirt. It fell to the middle of her thighs and dwarfed her petite figure considerably. The sleeves consumed her small hands and she rolled them up past her wrists so they would not interfere with eating. In all honesty, the heavy, long shirt was more clothing than she was used to.

At home, a sharp stab of pain jabbed at her heart as she briefly remembered everything she had lost, seaweed was the only garment ever worn and even then, only a few strands would be draped across the body. She pushed those thoughts out of her head as she sat down at the table, forcing herself to stop dwelling on the past. Her family had given up their lives to keep her alive and out of the hands of Davy Jones. As she began to carefully spoon the simple soup into her mouth, she couldn't help but shudder at the idea of being Davy Jones's prisoner.

While she would survive quite easily when the ship plunged deep into the ocean, the ministrations of the cruel sea lord would be an entirely different story. He would do anything to possess the power that pulsated warmly in her chest, in her torso, in her entire body. That glow within filled her with comfort when she could find no solace in a strange world. She sighed quietly and set the spoon down, pressing her hand again to the space between her breasts. Her eyes fluttered closed and her brow wrinkled as she concentrated.

A faint humming filled the room, coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. A gentle breeze tugged at the loose wisps of hair the salt had not stuck to her head and she slowly took her hand from her chest. Her palm and fingers were coated with a roiling, twisting substance that constantly contained all the blue and green hues possible, looking for all intents and purposes like thick ocean water.

A strand connected her middle finger to her chest and she looked at the clinging material with something akin to awe on her features. Bluish green light reflected on her face, intensifying the unique shade of her eyes as she brought her other hand up to create a bowl with her palms. The viscous liquid pooled there, that delicate thread still joined to her ribcage and she could not help but smile as the energy in her hands thrummed in her veins. It amazed her how powerful something so innocuous could be. How could something so innocent be so very deadly?

Noise outside the room jerked her out of her dreamy state and she slapped her hands against her chest, the substance seeping back into her body. She leaped to her feet and fisted her hands in her shirt, turning her mildly guilty and started features toward the strong figure now standing in the doorway. Her ocean colored eyes met James's clear green ones and for a moment their gazes held, each lost in the depths of the other's stare.

He broke it first, eyes dropping to rake across her shape, his shirt simultaneously hiding and revealing her body to his gaze. Anemone took that opportunity to look upon the commanding, muscular figure of the commodore, not needing to fake the soft flush that stole over her features.

"Commodore!" She gasped breathily, pressing her palms to cheeks. "I am inappropriately dressed!"

He realized his impropriety at her words and jerked his gaze away, a faint hint of color on his own features. "I apologize, Miss Storm, I merely came to bring you this." He lifted the dress in his arms to bring her attention to it. "If you have finished eating, I would like to ask you a few more questions about your family."

Understanding his intent, and the humans' strange need to keep their women as covered as possible, she plucked the dress from his hands and stepped behind a stiff curtain in a corner of the room. She pulled his shirt off and dropped it on the floor, not particularly caring if the garment became wrinkled. She wriggled into the dress, enjoying the feel of the slick material sliding against her bare skin.

He had not provided her with any undergarments and those she had been wearing upon being saved were apparently ruined. She shrugged off the thought that the dress wouldn't fit as it was meant to without the appropriate under things and stepped around the curtain, holding the gown against her chest.

Keeping her eyes focused firmly on the ground, she spoke. "Commodore, I require your aid. I cannot lace the back up on my own."

His eyes widened at the idea of touching her in such an intimate way, but conceded that he was the only other person on the ship who could do it without somehow besmirching her reputation. He stepped forward and she obediently turned around, pulling her hair over her shoulder to expose a long, graceful expanse of smooth back. James felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at her and reached out with trembling fingers.

As he laced the back of the dress, he couldn't help but remember how this outfit had looked on a different woman. His features pinched as memories of Elizabeth Swan swam through his head and he inadvertently tied the laces tighter than he otherwise would have. When he stepped away, Anemone's breath hissed out of her mouth and she looked down at her chest, surprised to see her breasts almost spilling from the neckline. She turned around slowly and fought the urge to tug the dress up, biting her lower lip uncertainly.

"Am I correct in assuming the woman to whom this dress belongs is slightly less…endowed, than me?" She asked, not particularly expecting a response outside of a blush from the man.

He merely shrugged and fought to keep his gaze from being glued to the tempting expanse of cleavage, surprised to be thinking that Elizabeth had never look quite so impressive when she wore the gown.

"I apologize." He said quickly. "I did not mean to lace you so tightly."

She shrugged her shoulders delicately, noticing that the movement pulled her breasts up until the top of her areolas peeked out from the neckline. James barely stifled a strangled noise, his sense of propriety warring with the more primal, hungry side of his psyche. Unable to help himself, his gaze became fixed on the hint of dark pink flesh, mind spinning off in wildly.

Anemone tilted her head to the side, watching his reaction with an animal like curiosity. Her eyes darkened as she categorized his response to the slight nipple slip with the series of images from her training and she carefully tucked her breasts back into the dress, trying to ignore the thrill of excitement his obvious fixation on her flesh sent through her.

"Perhaps," she murmured "you could loosen it?"

In his embarrassment and haste to rectify his error, James tore his eyes from her breasts and did not notice the flicker of amusement on her features. He shuffled behind her and made quick work of the laces. The moment they loosened, the breath caught in her lungs whooshed out and her breasts settled deeper into the bodice of her borrowed gown. She settled herself back down before the tray of cooling food, an intentionally shy smile on her lips.

"Thank you, Commodore. You have helped me so much yet there is no way for me to ever repay you." She began to eat again, keeping her gaze fixed on his features.

Acknowledging her change of subject as a way to neutralize the awkwardness of the situation, an awkwardness that he alone felt, he sat down on the opposite side of the table, loosely clasping his hands on the table.

"You need not keep thanking me, Miss Storm, for I have only done what it is expected of a gentleman. You are a lady in need; it would go against all of my instincts to abandon you to some dark fate."

She arranged her features into a fearful mask, letting the emotion bleed into her eyes. "But what will happen to me once we reach this…Port Royal? All of my belongings and wealth are lost, either to the greed of pirates or to the depths of the sea. I do not desire to impose myself upon your generosity any more than I already have but it appears that I have no other options open to me."

His gaze met hers and he smiled comfortingly. "Miss Storm, please do not fret. I swear to you that no harm shall befall you once we arrive. I already of a family who will be quite willing to take you in and they will supply you with everything you could need."

She let the fright on her face grow stronger. "But who would be willing to accept a strange woman into their home, their lives?"

He cleared his throat, as if slightly embarrassed though she did not comprehend why he would feel uncomfortable admitting this simple fact. "It will be _my_ family, Miss Storm. Actually, you will live with my mother and younger sister on our estate outside of Port Royal." He knew it was not exactly conventional to invite, as Anemone said, a strange woman to live with one's family, but James could see no other alternative.

He could not ask Governor Swann to take her in, not with the loss of Elizabeth still so fresh in his mind. He could not help but to clench his hands tightly as he thought of the once so very proper Elizabeth Swann lowering herself to willing mingle with pirates, to even become one herself. He forced those thoughts out of his head, refusing to dwell on the memories that caused him so much pain. It was then he noticed the subtle blush Anemone now sported, the pink flush coloring her cheeks and spreading down her neck.

"Thank you, Commodore." His generosity slipped past the walls she had built around herself, she could not allow herself to become attached to any of the humans she interacted with, and truly touched her. "I am so very grateful you found me." She breathed her voice sweet and soft.

She forced herself to ignore the blossom of warmth his words caused in her, touching her words with a hint of power that caused his thoughts to snap immediately to her. As he looked at her, she sent out tendrils of her innate magic, envisioning the strands slowly encasing him and connecting him to her. While he could not see the magic weaving around him, he certainly would begin to feel the effects of her siren charm. His green eyes grew unfocused and his lips parted slightly as his mind succumbed to her power, unable to fight her call.

She hated the guilt that threatened to choke her as she pulled him deeper and deeper under her spell, his admission of her impending permanence in his life the seal she needed to tie them together. She truly had no choice. If she did not ensnare him, Davy Jones would find her and rip her soul out from her very chest to acquire that delicate presence inhabiting her body. She suppressed a shudder at the gruesome possibility and slowly stopped infusing his hungry human soul with her magical essence.

Her spell would not force him to love her, no magic in the world could do that, but it would slowly cloud his judgment until he gave into that animalistic lust that drove the human subconscious. He would fight it, of that she had no doubt, but eventually he would submit to her magic and then they would be irrevocably bound. The spell casting ended when James's eyes snapped back into focus and his brow furrowed.

He unconsciously scrubbed his hands across face before dropping them into his lap. She forced the guilt out of her eyes, shoving it down into the bottom of her heart, knowing that someday the well holding all her self-hatred would overflow and swamp her. It was her burden to bear, the price to pay for having the power to destroy the world. James looked at her and made some excuse she barely heard, before fleeing the cabin.

Once she was alone, she pressed her eyes closed and silently cursed fate for the destiny spread out before her. Never could she trust another person, human or otherwise. Never could she whisper the terrible secret she carried for fear that her words would eventually find their way to the hungry ears of the king of the sea. She was destined to be alone, surrounded by people corrupted with her magic, forced to protect and defend her. She could pay no heed to their own wants and dreams only bind them to her and watch as they slowly grew into bitter shells of the people they once were.

A tear slipped from the corner of her eye as she thought about her own, eventual descent into madness. Such creeping insanity had inflicted every other sacred vessel that had ever been blessed with protecting the very Soul of the Sea, and now it was her turn to carry it until her mind broke. She shoved herself away from the table, what amount of her meal that found its way into her belly turning violently.

She stumbled to the bed and collapsed on it, pressing her face against the pillow so that it would soak up her tears. She had known what would happen to her when she had been chosen to be the bearer of the Soul, but when faced with the stark reality, she could not help but mourn the harshness of her fate. She now understood the temptation to turn the Soul over to Davy Jones, simply to be free of the life that accompanied it.

When the elders appointed her as the vessel, she had accepted it with little help. She had not truly understood what it meant, thinking only to save her people from total destruction. Of course, it had not helped to save her family and now what was left of her race was scattered to the farthest depths of the oceans, all hoping that their precious bearer of the Soul would be able to interpret the secrets of the Soul that none before her had been able to decipher.

The more rational part of her brain spoke up then, reminding her that it was possible to change her fate. If she could understand the secret the Soul held, she could find the way to release it from within her body. In freeing the Soul, she would free herself from her dark destiny and be able to live a normal, sane life. She clenched her hands in the sheet around her, unable to help the anger boiling up inside her at such a hopeless prospect.

Although the most ancient prophecy of her people told of a woman returning the Soul to its lost home and saving the world from certain destruction, Anemone did not believe that she was that female. Perhaps one of her descendants, for she would be forced to pass this burden to the single girl child she would someday bear when her mind eventually broke, would uncover the secret resting place of the Soul, but not her.

Her quiet cries slowly morphed into jarring sobs as she poured her pain and rage into the unbiased softness of the pillow. She allowed herself those few moments of weakness, knowing that once she disembarked from the _Courageous_, she would have to keep her true self locked away deep inside herself. Only the proper young woman from her training would be permitted to exist and she knew the farce of a life she would soon life would slowly begin to drive her mad.

Eventually her tears dried and she curled up into a pathetic ball, wishing with all her heart as she passed out, that she was still a youngling drifting in the comforting embrace of the Mother Ocean and not cast adrift in a world in which she could never truly exist.

* * *

So yeah, there's not much for me to say here, except that reviews will get a new chapter outta me faster. So, y'all review!

Blessed Be

Ame


	3. Chapter Three

Disclaimer: I don't own Pirates of the Caribbean, that honor goes to Disney, I do believe. However, I do stake a claim on Anemone and Star.

AN: Gracious me, it's been months since I even thought of this story but a review sent me skittering back to it…so it really is true that reviews make a writer write. I think y'all know what I'm getting at but I'm still gonna say it: please review!! I'll actually update if ya do. So thank you so KajiMori for kicking my butt back into gear and, if you're reading this, I hope you enjoy this next chapter that I've written especially for you!

* * *

Chapter Three

For the rest of the voyage, James avoided spending time in his cabin. Every time he neared the closed door, his mind thrust the image of her breasts bursting from her dress in vivid detail to the forefront of his brain. No matter how hard he tried, he could not force that tantalizing vision out of his head. The temptation to burst into the room and, because he did not believe for a moment that a young woman as prim and lady-like as Miss Storm would accept his improper advances, molest Anemone in a fog of lust threatened to overwhelm him.

He groaned to himself and clenched the rungs of wheel tighter, his knuckles whitening. He did not understand his sudden fixation upon the woman entrusted in his care. He recognized that she was attractive but that did not explain why he could not drag his thoughts away from her. She not only haunted his dreams, beckoning him with sultry expression that looked so at home on her exotic features, but hunted him during his waking hours. The cool slap of salty ocean breeze helped to keep his thoughts from straying too badly, but Anemone lurked on the peripherals of his consciousness, waiting for him to lower his guard so that she could wrap him up in her all consuming embrace.

He didn't try to stifle a groan at the thought of succumbing to her charms, although only in the privacy of his dreams, before reeling himself back in. James prided himself on his sense of duty and propriety and lusting so hungrily over an innocent woman almost made him feel sick to his stomach. Although she would never know of the carnal nature of his thoughts, he would feel as if he had besmirched her honor, sullied her with his impure thoughts, except, despite these reservations, he didn't know how long he would be able to restrain himself. With each passing day, the urge grew stronger and further frayed his control over his emotions.

His thoughts lingered on the woman below deck as he carefully maneuvered the _Courageous_ into Port Royal's harbor, so very glad to be on the verge of disembarking for it meant that he would no longer have to be in such close quarters with the terribly tempting Miss Storm. As the ship bumped against the dock, he stepped away from the wheel and watched the crew begin tying up. He gathered up his willpower and headed below deck to collect the young woman he couldn't stop thinking about. He paused outside of the door and swallowed heavily, trying to push the lump in his throat down so that he could speak without stumbling.

He knocked loudly and waited until that soft, lilting voice bid him enter before slowly pushing the door open. Despite his meager preparations, his breath caught at the sight of her and the urge to crush her small form against him threatened to overwhelm him. She stood in the middle of the cabin, the weak stream of sunlight coming through the porthole streaming gently around her and bringing out the almost black-green highlights in her inky dark hair. Her ocean coloured eyes sparkled when she saw him and she smiled faintly, nervousness clearly visible on her face.

"Good morning, Commodore." She murmured shyly, all of the guilt and sorrow she felt for binding him to her hidden deep within her heart. "Have we arrived in Port Royal?"

He cleared his throat, forcing his discomfort away as to not embarrass himself or this good young woman. "Yes Miss Storm, we have. If you are ready, I can escort you off the ship and to your new home."

Her smile widened and she nodded tentatively, stepping towards him. He offered his arm to her, ever the courteous gentleman, and she slipped her hand through it and rested her palm on his forearm. They didn't look at each other as he led her up onto the main deck, but the moment the full force of the sun hit her skin, she sighed in quiet contentment. All her life she had lived at the bottom of the sea and never before had she felt anything as wonderful as the warmth of the sun caressing her flesh.

Her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation and she basked in the feeling, knowing immediately that her ghostly pale skin would not stay so unbelievably white for long. She unconsciously leaned into James's side as they paused before descending down the gang plank; she felt him momentarily stiffen at the contact before he relaxed into her touch. She opened her eyes and skimmed across the town that was now her own, gaze drifting across the myriad of taverns that were close to the dock to the streets that branched out from there, leading into the different parts of Port Royal.

From their position still on the ship, she could just see over the rooftops to a series of hills on what appeared to be the outskirts of town. Resting atop those hills were a several sprawling mansions she assumed belonged to wealthy nobles and the governor. She tipped her head in the direction of the large houses and looked up at James, admiring his strong profile.

"Are one of those yours?"

He nodded. "Yes, our home is not quite as grand as the governor's but it is as nice as any you would find in London."

She made an affirmative noise in the back of her throat, the word 'London' sounding vaguely familiar but she was not particularly sure where or what it was. He guided her down the gangplank and into a waiting carriage, ignoring the curious stares of the numerous people on the dock. His was a very well known face and he could only imagine the rumors that would be spread about his appearance with a mysterious, and extremely attractive, young woman. He stepped up into the carriage behind her and shut the small door, sitting on the bench opposite her. He noticed how she knotted her hands in her lap, fingers digging into the voluminous material of her skirts.

She kept her gaze fixed on the curtain-less window, apparently fascinated with the scenery they passed. They did not speak on the hour long journey to the Norrington home, though James did not take his eyes off of her delicate face. He could not exactly put his finger on what had changed about her in the last few days, but he now for some reason felt inexplicably drawn to her. The temptation to reach out and touch her was almost overwhelming and he didn't understand this sudden need to be close to her. He, in all honesty, felt the same way he had in the early stages of his relationship with Elizabeth. That thought burnt through him and he jerked slightly in his seat at the realization.

How could he even think that this woman held a candle to Elizabeth? She was the epitome of everything he could ever desire in a female and no other could ever compare. Despite that thought, the truth remained that the twisting his belly and the fire that burnt through his veins made him want Miss Storm, perhaps, though he was not ready to admit it to himself, more than the absent Elizabeth. His eyes trailed across her features, lingering on her full, bow shaped mouth. That burning urge grew hotter and he forced his gaze downwards, only to find himself fixated upon the cleavage her dress exposed.

His licked his lips unconsciously and shifted uncomfortably on the hard seat. He tore his sight away from her chest and returned it to her face, drifting across the exotic planes. There was something so unique about her, a look to her that he had never seen in all his travels. Even to his biased mind, there was no question that she was beautiful but it seemed like there was something lurking beneath her charming exterior. It was some terrible secret, some great sadness that she tried to conceal and succeeded for the most part, except for that shadow that never quite left her shifting, ocean eyes.

His heart constricted at the idea that a woman as sweet and gentle as Anemone Storm could have such a heavy burden to bear and in the space of a breath, decided to help her carry this weight and maybe even remove it entirely. While he would not admit to himself that he could come to feel as strongly for Anemone as he did for Elizabeth, he did recognize that he had begun to care for the mild tempered young woman. He did not want her to feel alone when she bore such a load. The quiet noise she made pulled him from his thoughts and he realized that the carriage had come to a stop.

He pushed the curtain away from the window closest to him and smiled at the sight that greeted him. A large manor house soared up into the sky before the carriage, its many windows twinkling in the mid afternoon sunlight. The cream colored walls with the deep brown finishes soothed the ragged parts of his soul of which he was not even aware existed. It was his childhood home, where his memories held no darkness, just the innocence and joy of a time long since passed. A footman appeared from the elegant front entrance and pulled the small doors of the carriage open. James exited first and offered Anemone his hand, which she promptly took and leaned upon as she carefully stepped onto the ground.

Once free of the carriage, she took a moment to rearrange her skirts, making sure to keep all parts of her legs hidden. She still did not understand the impropriety of showing some ankle but she differed to the human's customs without complaint. Hopefully someday she would be able to shed some of these restrictions, but for now she would play the part of a meek, obedient woman and keep all parts, inside and out, hidden. She slipped her hand into James's arm as he led her to the house and she fought to keep her nose from wrinkling in displeasure as the congregating servants began to simper, bowing and scraping as their master returned.

Her attention did not linger long upon those groveling, for several feminine cries came from the top of the elegant staircase and her eyes snapped to two women staring gleefully down at them. Anemone unconsciously tucked herself closer against James's side and watched the duo bound towards them. Upon closer inspection, she realized that they were mother and daughter, the resemblance between them significant. The younger woman had hair the shade of old blood, a rusty color that, where it wasn't confined in a tight bun, fell in perfect ringlets around her face.

A pair of glittering emerald eyes sparkled brightly at the sight of her brothers, eyes that shone identically out of the older woman's face. Although it now held streaks of grey, James's mother's hair still clung to its original reddish brown hue that matched her young daughter's. Not only that, their bone structure was remarkably similar and Anemone decided that if a person saw an image of both women at the same age, they would be near identical. A sharp pang ripped at her heart as her mind's eye remember the face of her own mother and she pressed her eyes closed, tears springing unbidden to life.

She relinquished her death grip on James's arm and watched him rush forward to embrace his family. She loosely clasped her small hands in front of her and stood awkwardly, waiting for the reunion to end. Her gaze dropped to the floor when observing the joyful family grew too much to bear and her mind began to drift to the last time she saw her mother.

* * *

Star gripped her only daughter's hands tightly, worry written all over her prematurely lined face. Her precious child, the one baby she had been permitted to have looked up at her with innocent eyes, not truly understanding the gravity of what she had accepted. Soon her Anemone would leave the loving embrace of Mother Ocean to escape the demonic, heartless man that would never stop hunting her.

Davy Jones would do everything in his considerable power to steal the throbbing, nothing short of divine energy she could now see pulsating beneath her daughter's breast bone. For with that power, he would be strong enough to recover his heart and complete his dominion of not only the oceans of the world, but all the lands too. Star couldn't stifle a shudder and tried to cover it by squeezing Anemone's hands tightly.

"My daughter, don't forget everything you've learnt. All our hopes rest with you now. You cannot let yourself fall into Davy Jones' hands for if you do, it will spell the doom of all life on this earth."

Anemone's shifting, colourful eyes don't reflect the gravity of the situation, the naivety of her youth lending them a light they'll soon lose. "I know, Momma." She said earnestly. "All the elders, everyone actually, has told me that. I won't let him get the Soul, I promise."

Star's heart ached at the conviction in her child's voice and she couldn't help the tears that made her light blue eyes glisten, though the actual liquid was lost immediately to the salty water in which they were suspended. "I know you'll do your best." She whispered, drawing Anemone into what would be their final embrace.

Anemone clung to her mother, pressing her face into the older woman's shoulder. Their muscular, scaly tails rubbed against each other in a common siren sign of affection before they slowly pulled apart. Star tried to tuck one of Anemone's riotous greeny-black curls behind her ear, but the gentle current of the ocean around them pulled it back to float in a dark halo with the rest of her hair.

"Don't forget that I love you, Nemmy. No matter what happens, don't forget. Now go, child, and don't look back."

Neither woman would admit to feeling the distant vibrational distress calls the far off members of the school were emitting, warning those nearer the center of their underwater city to the approach of the enemy, aka Davy Jones. Star pressed a final kiss to Anemone's forehead, wishing that the gesture would provide her daughter with the protection she would so need.

Anemone bit her lower lip, the first flicker of fear springing into her deep eyes and she began to swim away, clinging to her mother's hand until the distance severed the contact. The image of her mother, drifting there in front of the home she had grown up in, her eyes so full of pain was permanently seared into her brain and she could almost hear her calling out her name, so full of longing and sadness…

* * *

"…Anemone! Miss Anemone, are you listening?" A feminine voice called out.

Anemone jerked out of her musings, the very real pain of losing her family etched on her features. Her gaze met the intense emerald of the elder Lady Norrington and she didn't have time to hide her feelings. She could feel her lower lip trembling and she curled her hands into fists, trying to force the grief back into the depths of her psyche. Lady Norrington, being a mother and a good one at that, immediately saw the pain on Anemone's face and warmth spread across her lined face.

"Oh my dear girl, I'm so sorry." Without another word, she pulled Anemone into her arms and hugged the younger woman tightly. "Here we are completely ignoring your loss…" Anemone couldn't hold back her tears when faced with such a strong maternal figure and once the embrace ends, Lady Norrington warmly stroked her cheek. "Come now my dear, you must be exhausted from your journey and in sore need of a bath. I'll have one of the servants retrieve the seamstress from town while you bathe and once you are ready, we'll have you measured for a new wardrobe." An affectionate smile spread across her features when she saw Anemone's astonished expression. "Don't you worry, we'll take care of you now. My son was right in bringing you here."

Lady Norrington wrapped her arm around Anemone's shoulder and drew her up the stairs, her daughter trailing after them, eager to properly meet this woman she was sure would become her sister someday. James stood in shock at the foot of the grand staircase, watching open jawed as his notoriously frightful and disapproving mother led Anemone out of sight.

* * *

Delicately fragrant steam rose up around Anemone in clouds as she sat quietly in a large bathtub, obediently closing her eyes as a young serving girl poured pitchers of warm water over her to rinse the suds from her hair. She didn't bother suppressing a shiver as the grime and encrusted salt from her journey sluiced off and absently ran her fingers through the bubbles forming on the surface of the water. She half listened to the girl's rambling chatter, finding comfort in the unending noise.

"…and nobody can believe how the Missus has taken to you! Not once in my memory has she been so good and kind to anyone she's just met! Begging your pardon Miss, but I do believe she intends to marry you to the Master. Wouldn't that just be wonderful? You'd be set for life, Miss, with the Commodore to protect and take care of you." She sighed then almost dreamily. "He's so handsome and such a gentleman! A man any woman could be proud to call her husband. A lot of the noble women in Port Royal, probably in the whole Caribbean, have their eye set on the Commodore. Ever since Miss Elizabeth broke their engagement, he's been the most eligible bachelor, well, ever! I just can't believe…"

She continued to speak even as she helped Anemone out of the tub and began to dry her with a warmed towel. Just as she finished buttoning the back of Anemone's borrowed nightgown, there came a knock at door of her bedchamber. The maid hurried forward and opened it, clapping her hands in glee at what met her gaze.

"The seamstress my lady sent for is here!"

A plump middle aged woman bustled into the room and immediately fixed her shrewd eye on Anemone's slender figure, raking it up and down the length of her body. "Hmph, your figure is much curvier that Lady Stella's so now I must get all of your new gowns finished as soon as possible. You'll never fit into her clothing with hips like that." Without another word she began measuring every possible part of Anemone, all the while muttering under her breath about the indignity of being expected to produce a full wardrobe in so little time.

Anemone stood perfectly still while the woman poked and prodded her, irrationally fearing that she would somehow feel the fins and scales that currently did not exist. Within minutes the seamstress was done and she took a final long look at Anemone, almost as if she was searing the girl's appearance into her mind.

"Yes…Lady Norrington was correct that blues and greens are definitely for you…perhaps one in grey too…" She left the room talking to herself, already planning the dresses she would make.

Anemone sunk down onto the plush feather bed, blinking in surprise as the bed embraced her. Slowly she lay back on the mattress and sighed, turning her head to the side to settle her gaze on the young servant.

"Who is Lady Stella?" She asked quietly, curiosity burning in her blue-green eyes.

"Why, Lady Stella is the commodore's sister!"

"Her name means star, you know…that was my mother's name."

The maid smiled warmly to the prone Anemone and moved to stand next to the bed. She gently patted her hand before helping her beneath the heavy coverlet.

"Well then miss, it must be fate that you are here. Me mum always told me I had a gift and I just know that good things will come for you." She then left the room, presumably to retrieve Anemone's dinner.

Anemone scrubbed a clean hand across her face before sighing quietly, a familiar ache settling in her heart. How could good things possible come from her presence in Port Royal? A great evil followed her, hungry for her power and would not stop until he had it. She pressed her eyes closed as a sense of desperation settled over her. Here she was, leeching off a kind family, knowingly bringing danger into their home and she was on the verge of ensnaring them in her magical web. Shoving away her fear, she took in a deep, calming breath and released her hold on the thrumming energy living beneath her breast bone.

A rushing, windy noise filled the room as a rich plume of sea rose from her chest and hovered in the air above her. She pressed her eyes closed and envisioned the house she currently lay in. She saw the energy of the Soul floating above the roof of the mansion and then let it slowly sink into every square inch of the domicile. She imaged the magic infusing with every living being within the house, bonding with their human souls and binding them to her. Her brow wrinkled as she narrowed her focus to the three Norringtons who she assumed would be eating dinner together.

Her mental vision zoomed down to the formal dining room and the small family whose souls especially that of the commodore bore faint streaks of bluish green. She concentrated and began funneling more raw energy from the Soul directly into their frail bodies. Thick strands of the power extended from their hearts and connected them directly to Anemone's, the bond growing stronger the more energy she poured into them. When the soft white of their souls were thickly ribboned with colour, Anemone called the lingering energy back into her body and she opened her physical eyes.

A cold sweat beaded her brow and she slowly wiped it away with a shaking palm. She could feel the Soul pulsating in her chest but it didn't lend her its usual comfort. Instead, she felt unspeakably ill as if she were on the verge of purging her stomach. She had just committed an undeniably evil act, binding so many innocent people to her.

How many of them would die when Davy Jones eventually found her? Which ones of them would she be forced to sacrifice so that she, and more importantly the Soul, would survive? Guilt tore at her and a glistening tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She rolled onto her side and curled into a ball, cocooning herself in the thick blankets. If Davy Jones didn't kill her, she knew the guilt eventually would.

* * *

Sooo, what do y'all think? I know this chapter is relatively uneventful but here's a preview of the next chapter: 'inappropriate' touching! –grin- Y'all will find out more if ya review…Anyway, thanks for reading and see all of y'all next time!

Blessed Be

Ames


	4. Chapter Four

_Disclaimer: I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean! I do believe that pleasure goes to Disney? Mh well, whoever it belongs to, just know it isn't me._

_AN: Well hot damn, I didn't think I'd update Soul of the Sea twice in one month but apparently the theory's true, reviews really do motivate the author. For cereals dudes, if ya read just drop me a review? You don't have to say much at all, but please rear your lurking head cause I want to hear from you. Oh, a question for anybody who actually reads this, did I perhaps mention the name of James's mother? I've searched the story but can't remember if I rewrote that section…Heh, well, anyway, enjoy this, the longest chapter so far! Oh yeah, I'm gonna have to say this is seriously AU, like super hardcore. I simultaneously love and hate the movies so I love the AU's to pieces._

* * *

Chapter Four

* * *

A fortnight passed in a flurry of dress fittings and an increasingly frequent amount of upper class ladies who just happened to be out on a drive past the Norrington mansion. Each time a knock sounded at the door, Anemone found herself shoved off into either the kitchens or her room to prevent the visiting women from catching a glimpse of her. Something had gotten into the two Norrington females, which Anemone knew was a direct influence of the magic she had poured into them, and it had slowly infected the rest of the house.

They all felt like they were playing some elaborate game, dropping hints and telling little white lies to tease and mislead those who hungrily listened for details. Port Royal was truly a small town if one only looked at the nobility who lived there and such they all consumed gossip with a voracious hunger. So a new, mysterious young woman now living with one of the most prominent and respected families left everyone starving for the latest whisper, hoping to glean some fragment of truth from the rumors.

The latest rumor floating around the aristocratic circles was that that Miss Storm, nobody knew the girl's given name, had become quite ill from the stress of something quite traumatic and couldn't receive visitors. After two weeks, people were starting to grow frustrated with this excuse but unfortunately for them, and somewhat ironically, Anemone found herself growing more ill than she could ever remember being. She hadn't felt well the last week, her stomach occasionally rolling sickly with nausea or random vision blackening dizzy spells but she hadn't thought much of it.

Her body wasn't used to being human and just had to get used to the change. That had been a week ago and now she could barely get out of bed. Her stomach refused to hold anything down and she shook constantly, a fever raging behind her eyes. With every passing day she could feel the Soul weakening inside her, growing more distant the sicker she became. It filled her with terror and she spent the days frantically thinking of a solution but nothing felt right.

Despite the late afternoon sun coming through the open windows, she soon fell into a fitful sleep filled with the rambling, nonsensical fever dreams. She woke with a sudden start, jerking herself out of a dream with only one thought on her mind. The ocean. Every fiber of her being tugged at her, pulling her in the direction she instinctively knew the beach would be. Without any conscious thought, she found herself out of bed and for one brief second she rocked to her feet then promptly collapsed to her hands and knees.

For the first time in days, she felt and almost saw in her blurred peripherals a strong tingle of rich azure whisper through her. She shoved herself back up and forced her weak, difficult to maneuver in her current state, human legs to lurch forward. As she slowly opened the door to her bedroom, she felt a wave of that ocean coloured energy ripple through the household. Somehow she knew, as if she had consciously done it, that nobody would notice her presence now.

She clung to the doorframe for a few seconds, her body trembling with the effort to remain up right. She could sense water just out of reach, as if being inside the confining walls cluttered her sensory organs. A sense of panic fluttered in her belly and she immediately stumbled forward towards the nearby banister. Leaning heavily upon the polished wood, she tripped down the stairs and silently cursed the thick carpet that caught her clumsy feet. Once she managed to get across the grand entrance room and open the door, a wash of sea scented air slammed into her and her instincts suddenly went into overdrive.

Without able to control it, she took off down the front steps with a single-mindedness that banished the weariness from her and sprinted into the nearby woods. Her skin itched with the intensity of the tugging and if she stumbled or got scratched by branches in the hectic run in her linen nightgown she would never remember. She found herself quite suddenly on the sandy beach and froze when she first caught sight of the incoming waves. A fierce shudder went through her and like an addict at the sight of a fix, she threw herself into the warm water.

The moment her body hit the water in a blurred flurry of shifting skin and suddenly a glinting, muscular tail appeared where there so recently had been legs. Her hair broke free of the delicate braids the nice, if gossip hungry, chamber maid had so ardently done for her as it took on a decidedly dark emerald hue and her facial features grew impishly pointy.

Once her transformation was complete and her desperate swim deeper grew slower, the sickness that had consumed her slipped away and her senses returned to her in their full. The Soul felt like a raging torrent inside her, roaring through her body as it filled her back up. She glided through the dark water for what felt like hours, her hair drifting behind her as she unconsciously sought out the company of other marine life.

To her delight, she soon felt the squeaks of a dolphin pod tickle along her skin and she sent out her consciousness in their direction, gently introducing herself to them. Their excited welcoming noises returned to her almost immediately and she increased her speed, hurrying to meet up with them. With all the awful things happening, she had forgotten some of her favourite things, the normal things, she as a merwoman did. Because, no matter how hard the Norringtons or she tried, Anemone was not human. She attempted to play a role but in her heart, she belonged to and in the sea. Her human shape and appearance looked alien to her and she constantly felt uncomfortable.

But here, dancing and twirling through the water with the frantically squeaking, happy dolphins lifted her spirits higher than they had been in weeks. Their affectionate bumps filled an ache for familiar contact she hadn't realized she'd been nursing and she warmly stroked her fingers along their soft, slick sides. She sucked in a deep gulp of salty water and relaxed a little more as she felt it pass through her gills. Breathing straight air was something she didn't know she could ever get used to.

The feeling of overwhelming danger slammed into her with no warning and her body tensed as a vision, a terribly angry thought sent directly into her mind overtook her field of vision. She stood in the organ room, that awful music so full of fury assaulting her every pore. She stood there shivering, arms wrapped around herself, hating that in this dream vision he had given her human legs. Her eyes cautiously watched the writhing tentacles of his beard and she felt the Soul pulse strongly in her chest. His shoulders tightened, like he could sense the Soul in her, and she gulped in air to speak before him.

"What do you want, Demon?" She spat, trying to curl her shaking hands into fists.

She knew she couldn't hide her fear of him, even though she knew he couldn't hurt her because the connection between them was vast, so she simply tried not to let it overwhelm her. Yes this abomination would mutilate and kill her, she had dreams she knew he sent her about all those ways, but she still had the Soul and it gave her more power than he could ever hope to possess on her own. Unfortunately though, he ruled the seas so her greatest strength was cut off from her. She would be forced to confront him someday in her strange, weak human body but she cut off that train of thought and focused her attention back on him, hatred filling her gaze as he slowly turned around.

His chuckle filled the room, feeling like a continuation of the organ music still lingering in her head. "Oh little girl," he rumbled "clinging to the memory of your people I see? You know what I did to them. I made sure you did. Don't you know there's no one left for you to fight for? Why don't you just give me the Soul now? I promise I'll be…gentle."

A sneer curled Anemone's lips, her face filled with cold beauty. "I will never give you the Soul. You broke all the Laws when you cut out your heart and became this abomination! You are unnatural and have no place in the Mother Ocean!" It was true, she could feel the wrongness of the ship brushing up with her, leaving oily feeling smears all along her psyche and it filled her with a righteous, blue tinted fury.

He laughed again and waved one sickly covered hand. "You merpeople, still believing in your 'Mother Ocean' when this 'goddess' never shows her face. I broke no laws you stupid female, I am an improvement, evolution." He grinned at the last one, seemingly amused with his usage of a human term.

She snorted through her fear and a trickle of defiance strengthened her stance. "No deity will touch you now with the filth left by your deeds further tainting your soulless husk." She smirked now, her intensely coloured eyes sparkling with taunting light. "You were human once, powerless and unremarkable. You traded your soul and now you are empty and hateful, a disgusting abomination that has no place in this world." Her voice lowered to hiss. "You know where you belong, Davy Jones." She uttered the last sentence, an ancient power throbbing into the air.

He visibly flinched as the sense of something he refused to accept as divine softly caressed him and his face twisted into a tangled snarl. "I will have the Soul whether you come willingly or not. There is no where you can hide from me, I will find you no matter where you run through these oceans. I know where you are, stupid girl, I am coming for you."

He motioned with his fingers and she turned her head sharply to see the badly mismatched figures of the crew of the Flying Dutchman suddenly appeared out of coral like holes along the walls. Without even thinking she opened herself up to the Soul and the energy flooded through her, shining out from her skin with an iridescent, ethereal glow. She felt the Soul take control and sever the connection between their minds, abruptly shoving her back into her physical body.

Her eyes snapped open and she first felt the worried squeaks of the dolphins that were frantically swimming around her, taking turns supporting her limp body much like they did their newborns. She knew with a sickening certainty that Davy Jones was now on his way to this part of the world to lie in wait for her to return to the ocean. She did not know if he would risk exposing himself to the humans, not with their numbers and ability to destroy anything that frightened them, but she hoped he still had that much sense.

All she knew was that she needed to get out of the ocean immediately. She would have to find a secluded bay or inlet somewhere on the island to take a dip occasionally to keep herself from getting so sick again but she felt that now she would be able to handle the transformation better. She sent out comforting emotions to the dolphins and told them she had to go away. She smiled when they promised to go with her as close to the end of the water as they could and so they began, the dolphins swimming closely in formation around her.

* * *

She woke in the early afternoon the following day, feeling stronger and healthier than she had in weeks. She threw the covers off and remembered when she realized her hair wasn't stiff with salt that when she returned ashore the previous night she had rinsed off in a small fresh water stream near the beach. Upon hearing movement, the chambermaid bustled out of a nearby door and gasped loudly when she saw the healthy pallor of Anemone's face. She clapped her hands and rushed forward, helping the older girl to her feet.

"Oh miss!" She gasped. "We all thought you were heading towards death the way you were going! These last few days have been such a scare! The missus and miss, and I daresay the Master too, will be so glad to hear that you have recovered! God surely had a hand in this, miss, there's no other explanation!"

Anemone smiled to her and patted her hand warmly, knowing that God, or in this case a Goddess, did get her through the night. "Thank you for your concern and I feel much better now. I must have broken my fever in the night. I would very much like to get dressed and have tea with the family."

For a moment the chambermaid, who Anemone had learned early on was named Nell, frowned as if she wasn't sure then the doubt cleared and she nodded. "I think that is a marvelous idea, miss! Most of your clothing has been delivered so you can finally dress like the lady you are. I know exactly which dress you must wear, miss, if you don't mind me saying?"

Anemone nodded quickly, honestly not much caring which gown she wore. All of it was terribly uncomfortable and prevented her from breathing comfortably. Nell happily went to the large dressing room and returned with a horrendously large armful of clothing she carefully set onto the bed. They spent the next hour draping all those garments onto Anemone's slender figure and fixing her silky, curly hair into a delicate look of elegance.

The story Anemone had spread was that all her valuables, aka jewels that were expected of a sole female heir of a wealthy family, had been stolen by the pirates who sunk her ship. She had a feeling that her neck wouldn't stay bare for long, not with the money Lady Norrington was so happily spending on her. When she looked at herself in the mirror Nell held up, Anemone fought not to wrinkle her brow at the woman who gazed back at her. She could see a resemblance to her normal self in the reflective surface but it was like looking at a sister, not herself. She stopped staring and forced a smile onto her lips.

"Thank you Nell, you did a lovely job."

The girl bobbed a curtsey. "I'll just go let the lady and miss know you're presentable for I do believe they're taking tea today with Lady Wellington." There was a hint of excitement in her voice as she left the room and nerves fluttered in Anemone's belly.

She didn't have long to dwell though for Nell returned almost immediately, a gleeful expression of her face. "The lady would be delighted if you would join them for tea, miss."

Anemone rose from an intricately carved stool and smoothed the folds of her skirt. Nell had chosen a gown that flattered her figure immensely, drawing the eye to the curve of her hip and swell of breast that rose above the heart shaped neckline. Granted, she could barely breathe due to the tightness of her corset but it did give her an impossibly tiny waist.

The spring green colour of it brought out a hint of seaweed in her depthless eyes and the faintest tint in her hair. She quietly followed Nell out of her bedroom and straight to the nicest receiving parlor in the manor. Nell grinned encouragingly to Anemone before knocking briskly on the door and opening it enough to poke her head in.

"Miss Anemone, my lady."

"Oh wonderful, please show her in."

Anemone grimaced to herself before smoothing her features into a smooth mask, a sweet smile curving her lips. She stepped inside the room and her eyes fell onto the older woman sitting primly in the flora printed loveseat. Before doing anything else, she curtsied to the stranger and murmured quietly a greeting.

"My lady."

Lady Wellington's slightly suspicious body language disappeared and a pleased expression settled onto her face. What nobody except Anemone knew, though, was that simply by entering the Norrington house the magic she had engrained into every portion of it started weaving itself into their soul. It spun its web a little further, drawing one more person into the knot who would at all costs protect the Soul. So, Lady Wellington's uncharacteristic response was mostly due to magic, although she felt intrigued by the exotic, yet pleasantly polite girl she'd heard so many rumors about.

"Well, Miss Storm, I almost thought you were nothing more than a myth these last few days."

Anemone blushed delicately, a flush staining her high boned cheeks. "I have been quite ill, Ma'am and for the safety of all visitors, chose not to endanger them. I am much better now though and I look forward to meeting the people about which my gracious hosts have told me so much."

"Well my dear, come sit with me and we can continue with tea."

She smiled seated herself beside the elderly woman and gratefully accepted the cup of tea and plate of small, delicate cakes. She didn't speak much the hour, she and Lady Stella instead spending the time listening respectfully to the older women discussing the town and latest gossip. Lady Norrington told Lady Wellington the whole truth, as she knew it, leaving Anemone to eat and drink in peace. When the social gathering ended, she helped Lady Wellington up and the aristocrat squeezed her hand lightly.

"I do hope you accompany the Norringtons to my little party later this week. Everybody will be so pleased if you attend." Lady Wellington spoke a few words more to the two Norringtons before leaving the house.

The undercurrent of tension that had plucked at them all when the other woman was present disappeared and the three of them sunk back down onto the sitting furniture. Anemone properly ate a good number of the small sandwiches and marvelously frosted petite fours. They talked in a surprisingly comfortable and informal manner for having known each other so long, but, and not entirely due to the magic that bound them, an almost instinctive trust existed between them.

The peaceful time was interrupted by the parlor door flying open and the absent son strode inside. He casually greeted his family but froze when his eyes landed on the primly seated Anemone, whose impish eyes flashed excitedly at his appearance. He blinked slowly before his long instilled manners kicked in and he half bowed to her.

"Miss Storm." He said, trying not to put too much heat in her name.

He had not been prepared to see the woman who he felt spent all of her time slinking in and out of his thoughts, tempting him away from his morals. The creature sitting before him bore only a superficial resemblance to the woman he dragged into his boat. This female was the picture of what any man could ever want and he hated her for it. Her presence reminded him of everything he thought Elizabeth was and continually thrust the shame of her choosing a blacksmith of all people over him.

He couldn't tell where the line between anger and lust was, but no matter the location, it was blurred beyond recognition. Every time he looked at her he felt as if someone had hit him in the gut with the butt of a rifle, a rush of more emotions he thought he could feel at one time rushing through him. Anemone Storm exuded a softness, a certain vulnerability that incited the instinct to protect her but also possess her.

To say the least, it frustrated him to no end. He didn't want to fall in love again, his heart still belonged to Elizabeth in hopes one day she would realize the errors of her ways and come back to him. He refused to accept that he may just be falling in love with Anemone and quickly settled into an open arm chair. His mother perched on the edge of her settee and clasped her hands, sending a smug smile to her son.

"James, I want to talk about Lady Wellington's party in a few days. Your sister and I have our own escorts but Anemone, since she hasn't been to any parties yet, needs someone to escort her. All the most eligible men in the town will be there and I'm sure they'll all have their eye on Anemone. It wouldn't be proper for her to arrive unescorted." While she didn't out rightly say it, James knew exactly what his mother wanted.

Unfortunately, escorting Anemone to the party would mean he would be expected to dance with her and he didn't think he wanted to do that, ever. But he couldn't let a lady of Anemone's breeding have her reputation besmirched by attending a party alone and his sense of duty stepped in. Regardless of his feeling for her, he would be a gentleman and escort her.

"I will accompany her to the party, do not fret Mother." He said firmly, trying not to let a trace of his feelings show.

Anemone watched him from beneath her eyelashes and worried at her bottom lip as she assessed the emotions she could feel rolling off of him. He was definitely upset about something and confused, as if he was struggling to come to terms with some great event in his life. She knew exactly what was on his mind and sighed to herself. He didn't want her yet found himself drawn to her. She knew there was someone else in his heart but sadly it didn't matter.

The magic of the Soul would eventually overwhelm him and there was nothing he could do to prevent. The harder he fought, the stronger it would become. She noticed the way his eyes slipped to her when he thought no one was looking and she intentionally crossed her legs, a hint of ankle catching his attention. Supper had been an impromptu and informal, the quartet eating in the parlor instead of moving to the large dining room.

The three women talked with moderate degrees of excitement about the upcoming and the party, James sitting back and trying to covertly watch Anemone as much as possible. With every passing moment he felt the need to claim her grow stronger and for some inexplicable reason, he started to grow jealous of the potential suitors they talked about, his frown growing deeper and deeper. He didn't catch the sly glance Anemone sent his way as she picked up on his current mood, seeing a perfect opportunity to push him past his limits.

She turned to look at him and smiled sweetly, innocence simply dripping from her voice. "What do you think, Commodore?" She asked. "Are there any men you know who would be interested pursing me?" She stopped short of fluttering her lashes but she couldn't help the impish quirk her lips took on as she watched his face suffuse with the heat of his anger.

"No!" He barked, losing his infamous composure when faced with the thought of another man touching the woman some traitorous part of his brain considered to be his.

She, his mother, and sister all began laughing at his reaction and he began to scowl. She shook her head to clear the giggles away and noticed how tired she suddenly was. She didn't need to fake a yawn and smiled affectionately to the other two women.

"Thank you so much for everything. I look forward to getting to know you both a lot better. I must withdraw for the night, ladies. I find myself terribly exhausted. " There was a hint of a promise in her voice, as if the others would like the plans she was slowly forming.

They bid her a fond goodnight and she rose to her feet, her full skirts swirling around her feet. She merely smiled briefly to James, knowing that the lack of attention she paid would irk him and hopefully get a reaction out of him. It seemed like the door to the parlor had barely closed before a large hand clasped her bicep and she found herself suddenly cornered against the wall.

She hadn't realized up until that point just how large a man the commodore was and now he was using his full height and breadth to good use as he stared down at her, eyes smoldering in a confused tangle of lust and anger. She couldn't help a little smirk as she looked up at him and crossed her arms beneath her breasts, forcing herself not to show just how much his proximity affected her. It also happened to press his hand against the side of her breast, something both of them would remember later in vivid detail.

"Something you needed to say, Commodore?" The teasing was plain in her voice.

His other hand clasped tighter than an iron band around her other bicep and forced her arms apart as he pressed her hard against the wall. He brought his face down close to hers and for a brief moment her heart fluttered into her throat in genuine excitement when she thought he was about to kiss her, instead he simply brought himself to her eye level.

"You will dance with no one but me." He growled, ferocity on his face.

She couldn't help but laugh. "Excuse me?" She said incredulously, the timid girl vanishing as her true personality reared its head. "You may have saved my life, but that does not mean you own me Commodore. I will dance with whomever I choose and need no permission from you."

He just about pressed his nose against hers and she could feel his breath puff against her cheeks every time he exhaled. Her heart beat a harsh melody against her ribs and she tried desperately not to focus on how close their lips were. Her hands unconsciously rested on his chest, not to push him away but to keep him in place.

"You will do as I say."

His snarl helped clear her lust fogged brain and she scowled at him, trying uselessly to push him away now. "I will do no such thing! You are not my father, my brother, nor my fiancé. While I am very appreciate you have done for me, you do not have the liberty to control my life."

Without thinking, the words spilled from his mouth. "I'm not your fiancé yet." He couldn't believe what he had said and stared at her, not able to hide his astonishment.

She lifted one of her brows slowly. "You plan to offer for my hand? Unfortunately, I have no desire to have a piggish prig of a husband so I am declining any proposal." She smiled again, a slightly prissy tinge to it. "Now I would appreciate if you unhand me so that I can retire for the evening."

He officially couldn't control his actions around Anemone and when she treated him like he was beneath her, the frayed cord holding back his emotions snapped. His eyes narrowed until only a thin strip of burning green was visible and in a blink of an eye, one of his hands slipped to the nape of her neck. His fingers ripped the delicate arrangement apart and her dark curls tumbled around her face, their soft perfume scenting the air around them.

It was her turn to be shocked at this show of dominance and she swallowed thickly, the tingling she had been ignoring grew stronger and she couldn't suppress a shiver. He moved his mouth a scant inch from her skin, his burning hot breath caressing her cheek as he moved his lips to her ear, his hand tilting the side of her head towards him.

"You will belong to me." He hissed and felt a thrill of satisfaction when he felt her petite form shudder against his. "Think what you may, Miss Anemone, but I will allow no other man to have you."

A door closing somewhere near them jerked James out of his daze and he realized just was he was doing. He scuttled backwards and looked down at her flushed cheeks, unbound hair, and wide eyes, realizing just how ungentlemanly he had just acted. Unfortunately, just because he wanted to be a gentleman didn't mean he could be one all the time. He opened his mouth to apologize but didn't know how to correctly form the words and instead fled suddenly needing a stiff drink to banish the memories and confusion that constantly plagued him.

She watched him go, mouth parted in surprise at his sudden departure. She could still taste his emotions that lingered in the room, sighing as she noted confusion prevailed amongst all else. She looked around quickly, hoping that no member of the staff had caught their interaction. She couldn't immediately find anyone so she absently twisted her loose hair and released it over one shoulder as she wandered towards her room. As Nell helped her undress, she thought about what happened, in her usual manner analyzing the interaction.

Upon looking back at her own behavior, she came to a startling realization. The magic she used to tie everyone she met to her rebounded back on her. She stifled a somewhat jaded snort because it made complete sense, she just hadn't thought of it. Anything she sent out would come back to her at least that much or more. So, in a way, she decided, she was being used just as much as they were. The thought that she was being used too grew more solid and believable the more she considered it.

Several times since it merged with her, it felt like a separate entity took control of her body and she was simply a passenger. Nobody had told her it was going to be like that. She didn't think she liked having an actual, literal other soul inhabiting her. The idea made her a little wary of the pulsing thing in her chest though she knew it didn't matter. Her soul and whatever the Soul was had been fused together until she could somehow find its true home. As she stared at herself in the mirror of the vanity while Nell brushed her hair, she could see the other presence flickering behind her eyes, a not quite natural sparkle that she wasn't sure if she liked.

Her thoughts remained fixed to this new development in her life as she drifted off to sleep and only her subconscious aware of the motherly love the Soul emitted with each gentle pulse offering the only comfort it could in its current, limited state.

* * *

_Soo, what do y'all think? So I know there might be some confusing parts in the chapter so lemme know if some just doesn't make sense. Any grammar mistakes are cause I'm too impatient to beta read this so yep. Now cause I'm shameless, pleaaaase review! I swear to you, leave me just a little message like Jesse Cullen-Norrington or dora7484 did! I'll luuuuuhve you forever._

_Blessed Be_

_Ame_


End file.
